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Joshua Dipert 
Jennifer Jay 
Mary Frances Lund 
Chris Savini 
Joy Tomaszewski 

John Stobart, Advisor 

For a selection to be published in this issue, three of the above had to vote for acceptance. For the 
award winners, only John Stobart is responsible. 




Poetry— $5.00 each Prose— $5.00 each 

Joshua Dipert 
Laura Maxwell 

Laura Maxwell 
Chris Savini 

Donica Rampa 
Chris Savini 

Cover Design — 


Janine Passehl 

Correction: Laura Maxwell (not James) also won a 
in Wordeater 81 



L_ — = 



Manuscripts and cover designs 

must be submitted to 

John Stobart, room C1069 


February 15, 1993 • Wordeater 83 
April 15, 1993 • Wordeater 84 
Manuscripts should be typed and will not be returned. 






This is called Joshua Dipert 

Charles M Jim Goebel 

Confucion Say Sheryl Mastalesh 

Lost Leader Tony McFadden 

The Blue Swallow Motel Chris Savini 

Mirror, Mirror Rita Bieniek 

One Jim Goebel 

Aerodynamics Joshua Dipert 

Tree Tragedy Rita Bieniek 

Wordy Lessons Laura Maxwell 

Columbus Joshua Dipert 












12. Election Glass Tony McFadden 

13. Freedom rrrings Sheryl Mastalesh 

14. Freedom Joshua Dipert 

15. The Weekend Laurie Montgomery 

16. Outlines BreeSayers 

17. Hand Me the Gat? Adam Wilcox 

18. Pro-Choice _ Donica Ram pa 

19. Requiem to a Fetus Sheryl Mastalesh 

20. My Mother Against It Jennifer Rohr 

21. Lost It Bree Sayers 

22. Little Things Laura Maxwell 

23. The Joys of Christmas Rita Bieniek 

24. Blizzard's Blanket » Joshua Dipert 

25. Some Quotes Tony McFadden 

26. Another Quote Tony McFadden 

27. Miser Steve Marker 

28. A Class in the Half-Life of JUCO Jim Goebel 

29. Sonic (Haiku) Joshua Dipert 

30. Reflection Tony McFadden 

31. Dementia Chris Savini 

32. Market in My Land Jennifer Rohr 

33. The Stairs .. Joshua Dipert 

34. Will Power Laura Maxwell 

.35. Colors ...... . .....Tina Szegedi 

36. Earthbound BreeSayers 

37. Silence Jim Goebel 

38. Denial Janine Passehl 

39. He Spoke in pseudo-philosophies ....Donica Rampa 

40. Troll Boy BreeSayers 

41. Handsome Young Man Heidi Terry 

42. Lesson Tony McFadden 

43. Role Revolution Sheryl Mastalesh 

44. Hectic Morning ...... . ... Joshua Dipert 

45. Dirt ^ Chris Savini 

46. In a Chapel „. _ Laura Maxwell 

47. Distance Jim Goebel 

48. Seventh (Son/Sun) Joshua Dipert 

49. Philosophy Tony McFadden 

50. 11:9 Jim Goebel 

51. Graveyard Daze Chris Savini 

52. Dream Scheme Rita Bieniek 

53. Neglect Laura Maxwell 

54. Dyslexia 

55. The986SX 

56. Rock 

57. Rock 2. 

58. Terrarium 

59. Frail Spark 

.Joshua Dipert 
..Jim Goebel 
..Joshua Dipert 
..Joshua Dipert 
..Tony McFadden 
..Laura Maxwell 

Berry Nice Sheryl Mastalesh 

Stain Bree Sayers 

Alzheimers Joshua Dipert 

Melancholy Joshua Dipert 

Snake Charmer Donica Rampa 

Joyce Blue Chris Savini 

Natural Disaster Joshua Dipert 

She's a Quiet One Donica Rampa 

Sight-seeing Bree Sayers 

True Game Adam Wilcox 

.05 Seconds in My Head „ Chris Savini 

Hate Breed „ Adam Wilcox 


72. #2 Bree Sayers 

73. Cowpunch Chris Savini 

74. Destiny Joshua Dipert 

75. Land Rights Joshua Dipert 

76. White Man's Haiku Tony McFadden 

77. Rebuttal Tony McFadden 

78. Big Mac Tony McFadden 

79. Native Spirit Steve Marker 

80. The Older Woman Cheryl O'Brien 

81. Standing Jim Goebel 

82. Just a Few Words Steve Maielli 

83. Just a Few More Words Steve Maielli 

84. Mortality Laurie Montgomery 

85. Sam Donica Rampa 

86. Small Men Joshua Dipert 

87. Common Sense Chris Savini 

88. Mastermind Adam Wilcox 

89. Strong Storm Clouds Joshua Dipert 

90. Woodssong Joshua Dipert 

91. Sumptious Season Laura Maxwell 

92. Wolverine Joshua Dipert 

93. Thin Ice Joshua Dipert 

94. Mother and Child Sheryl Mastalesh 

95. Damn These Bars Jim Goebel 

96. Blues Bar 1258 AM Chris Savini 

97. Call Me a Pig Tony McFadden 

98. Corpse Joshua Dipert 

99. Quilted Laura Maxwell 

00. Faces Jim Goebel 

01. Leaf Joshua Dipert 

0Z Reflection Cheryl O'Brien 

03. Wrong Tony McFadden 

04. A Life's Harvest Sheryl Mastalesh 

05. Cat Joshua Dipert 

06. Kinkii Joshua Dipert 

07. Ode to a Roach Laura Maxwell 

08. Appearances Can Be Donica Rampa 

09. Losing Jim Goebel 

10. 1 Want to be Liberated Sheryl Mastalesh 

11. On a Couch Chris Savini 

1Z Father Father Son „ Tony McFadden 

13. Help, Help! „ Sheryl Mastalesh 

14. Garbage „ Janine Passehl 

15. Bizarro Tony McFadden 

16. Arbor, Answer Me Sheryl Mastalesh 

17. A Short Narrative Joshua Dipert 

18. Autumn Blizzard Joshua Dipert 

19. Night Joshua Dipert 

20. Vanity Insanity Adam Wilcox 

21. Sonic . — Joshua Dipert 

22. Excalibur „ Joshua Dipert 

23. In Closing Tony McFadden 

All copyrights are retained by the authors, and materials will not be reprinted without their permission. 


Joshua Dipert 










Sheryl Mastalesh 

Ironic that a society who hailed Columbus yesterday, 
condemns him today, and kills unborn babes every- 

Because the whites don't want more blacks, 
and the blacks don't want more whites, 
and the grey don't know what they want. 
How will they survive tomorrow? 


Jim Goebel 

I have often wondered, 
If Charlie Brown had any guts, 
Would he get real angry, 
Working for just Peanuts? 


Tony McFadden 

Is there a man out there? 
A woman? 

Any voice to speak up for atrocities? 

Lead a boxed-in head to a bright light 

Listening dome. 

Hear the blind, and see the deaf, 

who made them this way, 

And even those who remain open are 

Left without direction. 

Where's my guide? 

I feel alone. 


Chris Savini 


Steam rose from the shower stall, annexing 
the air and condensing on the faded blue walls. 
Inside the stall, a man stood hunched forward, 
resting his head against the wall. The 
showerhead spat hot water onto his chubby 
frame, scalding his back. He smiled under the 
pain. The heat of the water intensified with 
every drop, and when it reached its apex he 
plunged his face into the boiling spray. 

This was his ritual, his ceremony. The wa- 
ter had to be hot. It had to purify him. It had to 
burn away the skin that had touched the face 
of carnal sin and had loved the feel of it. 

Steam poured into the bathroom as he 
stepped out of the stall. He grabbed the coarse 
motel towel with a gaudy olue swallow em- 
broidered into it and driea himself vigorously. 
His skin ached under the scratchy fabric, so he 
rubbed harder, showing no mercy. He wiped 
the waterv film away from the mirror and 
stared at nis reflection. His face, hands, and 
genitals had taken on the deep scarlet color of 
a first degree burn. He smiled and winked at 
his reflection and then dressed himself. 

The hooker was lying on the bed when he 

Pmf* f 

came out of the bathroom. She was still naked 
and entranced with an episode of That Girl . It 
wasn't until he brushed ner purse while pick- 
ing up his shoes that she noticed he was in the 

"Don't mess with my purse!" she barked. 

'Trust me darling, I nave no interest in the 
contents of your purse/' he replied. He had 
already gone through her purse looking for 
weapons when she had been out of the room 
earlier. "Why aren't you dressed? Cover your- 
self," he said. 

"You weren't complaining 20 minutes ago. 
Besides I want to take a shower," she said as 
she rose from the bed. Her soft pink body 
glided past him, and he stared at her as she dug 
tnrougn her purse. She pulled out a towel but 
couldn't find her bar of soap. "I hope you 
didn't use all the hot water, she said , still 
hunched over her overnight bag. 

'1 think there might still be some left," he 
said inching toward ner. 

"There better be. You were in there forev- 
there's my soap!" 

She jumped up and turned, nearly knocking 
into her chubby customer. "Shit! Don't creep 
up on me like mat!" He was staring down at 
her intensely, his upper lip trembling uncon- 
trollably. She didn't fike the way he was look- 
ing at her. His red face and quivering lip made 
her uneasy. "I found my soap," she said ner- 
vously. The sound of her voice infuriated him. 
The innocence of her tone made him sick. He 
didn't see a tragic young girl in front of him, he 
saw a filthy wnore. A living reminder of his 
own weakness. She had tempted him, just like 
the others, and he hated her for it. He had 
purified himself in the shower, and now he 
needed to erase her and everything she stood 

She began to side-step her way towards the 
bathroom. The look on his face told her that he 
wasn't thinking nice thoughts, and she wanted 
at least a bathroom door separating them. But 
before she could reach the tnreshold, his hand 
was around her throat. She tried to scream, but 
his grip held it inside. She tore at his eyes with 
her nails and managed to draw blood before 
his fist knocked her to the ground. Once again 
his hands found her throat. She wrestled with 
him, ripping at his hair and face. It had never 
been this difficult for him before. She punched 
him hard in the throat, which caused him to 
loosen his grip long enough for her to knock 

him off her chest. She staggered to her feet and 
tried to reach the door, out she could feel 
herself losing consciousness. The chubby man 
snatched a lamp from the nightstand and 
swung it savagely at her head. He struck her 
once, caving in her skull. She died instantly. 

Her limp body lay in a ridiculous position 
at the foot of the bed. He stood above her, 
staring fixedly at the heavy wrought iron lamp 
gripped by his right hand. Blood was running 
into nis eyes and nis chest was heaving franti- 
cally. His eyes slipped down and found the 
dead girl. Nausea overpowered him. 

He stumbled into the bathroom and retched 
all over the sanitary seal on the toilet. Sharp 
pains shot through his left arm and then in- 
vaded his chest. He couldn't catch his breath 
and his heart felt as if it would pound through 
his rib cage. He remembered promising his 
doctor to lose sixty pounds. A promise he 
failed to keep, and was now paying for. He 
collapsed into the toilet and then onto the floor. 

The chubby man's body convulsed and 
contorted under the pain in nis chest. He tried 
to recite the Lord's Prayer but couldn't form 
the words. He rolled over onto his belly and 
groped at the porcelain. 

1 just need to get on my feet, and I'll be 
fine," ne thought as his eyes stared up at the 
faded blue walls, and then everything went 


The walls and floors were made from hard 
gray stone. Everything about the room was 
cold. Water dripped incessantly in the corners, 
creating a maddening symphony of gentle 
splashes which echoeaeternally. In the center 
of the chamber stood a magnificent blue and 
gold throne which seated a cadaverously white 
young woman. She sat slouched against the 
chairs arm, smoldering inside her gut. Her 
head still rang from the blow she had received 
less than an hour before. Blood trickled from 
her lip, she spat a mouthful onto the floor. Rats 
scurried from the shadows to lap up the salty 
life she so casually gave up. 

"That bastard!" she screamed in an inhu- 
man voice which cracked the walls and ex- 
ploded inside the ears of the rats. "He will 
suffer in such a way that Satan wul shiver in 

He stood in the shadows of the doorway, 

P*?c 2 

watching her vent her anger on the miserable 
rats. She was just the kind of girl he liked; 
boyishly cut blonde hair, perfectly pale skin, 
and a slender body which was concealed only 
with a thin white gown that dropped down to 
her bare feet. He almost regretted bashing in 
her skull with a lamp. Like a madman, he 
inched forward out or the shadows and into 
her view. 

She caught the chubby man out of the cor- 
ner of her eye and smiled. She glided towards 
him and circled like a blood-crazed shark, 
whispering horrible and erotic things into his 
ears. Her cobalt blue eyes stabbed into him. 
Sweat poured down from his receding hair- 
line, she traced designs into his neck with her 
nails, cutting him once or twice. His nerve 
endings swelled and the sweat poured faster. 
She continued to circle and told him all the 
terrible things she was going to do to him. He 
had never been this aroused before or this 

She grabbed him by the back of the shoul- 
ders and pulled him close. Her hot breath 
warmed the back of his neck as she licked his 
earlobe. She sighed softly and then threw him 
forward face first into the stone cold wall. 
Blood from his nose spilled onto his white 

'That's going to leave a stain/' he groaned. 
She walkea up behind him and plucked a 
single hair from the back of his neck. She then 
turned him around and tore every stitch of 
clothing from his body. He stood there naked 
and wondering what would come next. His 
answer came in the form of a sharp crack to the 
head. His body slammed against the stone 
floor. He lay there silent, his eyes focusing on 
the pile of decaying flesh in the corner, her 
laughter swelling in his ears. He closed his 
eyes and cried, spewing out entreaties and 
apologies. She laughed harder. 

Hot water scalded his back, and the steam 
rose from the shower stall, annexing the air 
and condensing on the pale blue walls. He 
lifted his head from the dank tile and plunged 
his face into the boiling spray. Hurriedly, the 
chubby man exited the shower stall, grabbed a 
coarse motel towel, and opened the bathroom 

The hooker was lying naked on the bed 
watching an episode of That Girl . 

"Ihope you didn't use all the hot water," 

she said as she rose from the bed. 

"No, I think there might be some left," he 
said. The sound of her voice made him sick. 
She glided past him and dug into her over- 
night bag. 

"She's just like the others," he said silently 
under his breath. "I purified myself in the 
shower, now I must erase her ana everything 
she stands for." 

He grabbed the wrought iron lamp from 
the dresser and crept up behind her. She turned, 
almost knocking into ner chubby client. 

'1 found my soap," she said nervously. He 
swung the lamp savagely into her head. Her 
limp body fell to the ground. He dropped the 
lamp ana smiled at his accomplishment. 

Laughter swelled inside his ears. He 
dropped to his knees in agony and watched the 
pretty young hooker with boyishly cut blonde 
nair rise to her feet. She circled him like a 
blood-crazed shark and whispered horrible 
and erotic things into his ears. He sat on his 
knees praying for forgiveness and an end to 


Rita Bieniek 

I look into my mirror 
I do not find me there 
A reflection appears 
I just stand ana stare 
Where did the girl go 
The one so young and f air 

P«9* 3 

7. ONE 


Jim Goebel 

A tree with no leaves, 
A river with no water, 
A bird with no wings, 
A painting with no color, 
A radio with no songs, 
A book with no pages, 
A symphony with no rhythm, 
A flower with no scent, 
Thar s what ifs like, 
Without you. 

Laura Maxwell 


Joshua Dipert 

Soaring slowly a 
solitary sailing page 
takes flight for a time. 


Rita Bieniek 

Ifs sad, I agree, the death of a tree 

The forests are disappearing rapidly. 

I fear I am involved in genocide 

I am part of the killing tide. 

How many lives did I cut down today? 

I'm too embarrassed to really say. 

I care, I really do 

But I am wasteful, ifs true. 

Will I learn my lesson before ifs too late 

Or have I already sealed my fate? 

I guess the future will quickly unfold 

Will I ever learn the lessons rve been told? 


Maps, books, globes, 
Thesaurus, & dictionaries 
Encyclopedia and 
Crossword puzzles, 
These are the treasures 
That fill my dreams 
These contain words 
That change men's deeds 
These inspire, 
Sharpen, conquer 
and conspire 
To further quests, 
To higher zests. 


Noble objects 
Classical tomes, 
Containing knowledge 
Expressing pleasure, 
The bite orlanguage, 
The rebels gain. 
To wit & humor, 
To words, I drink. 

These are the tools 

That make men think. 


A Patrick Henry, 

Where would he be, 

Without the fiery language, he 

Could use to set a 

World aflame. 

Or Thomas Paine 

Whose "Common Sense," 

Inspired Yanks 

To stand their ground 

& turn the mighty 

P*fe 4 

English round. 


By words 
We've learned 
Of Paul Revere, 
A sanctioned ride, 
To warn of war 
& stem the tide 
Of Kingly pride 
remove the kick 
of redcoaf s power 
And make the Brifs 
To quake & cower. 

To higher acts 

Of: Duty 


Yes, even the eventual end 
Of cursed, wretched 


So we became 
As song has said 
Home of the brave 

Land of the free, 
Thus Jefferson 
In time, could pen 

His boldened plea 

Of equal life and liberty. 
In Declaration 
He expressed 
An even search 
for happiness. 


A book it is 
A thing to cherish, 
Without their lore 
Yet may we perish. 
Come now my friend, 
Do you agree/ 
A book it is 
A thing of glee! 


Yes, words, & books, & maps I love. 
For they inspire 
Our worldly deeds, 
And our desires 


Joshua Dipert 

For some 
he brought a new 
day to a heathen land, 
carrying with him the gospel 
or death. 


Tony McFadden 

I can see right through you transparent 


why don't you lie a little louder so those 

in the blina behind can see you're really 

an asshole. 

P*fc 5 


Sheryl Mastalesh 

In a country where you can 
cheat on your wife, taxes, 
medicare, and the draft, 
and still be elected to 
an official position.... 


Joshua Dipert 

fought John Bull for 
freedom and his own pride 
warred as best he could, and gained 


Laurie Montgomery 

A relaxing weekend, to start the summer 
off. I remember thinking about going to my 
Aunt Rhonda's and Unde Bob's in Chicago. 
My friend Kate and I were planning to fly to 
Chicago with my Mother and her sister to visit 
some family. We were greeted by more than 
family when we arrived. We took the 12:32 pm 
flight out of Houston and we would be in 
Chicago at approximately 2:32 pm. We were 
flying non reservation which did not guaran- 
tee us a seat on the plane. However, we made 
it and our flight was not delayed. Uncle Bob 
picked us up at the airport, excited to see his 
two sisters and his most favorite niece. Our 
long weekend was off to its start and long it 
would be. 

We arrived at the orange fire brick ranch 
style house at about 4:00 pm. The house was 
fairly spacious, four bedrooms, two and a half 
bathrooms, a kitchen and dining room, a living 
room and a family room, plenty of room for 

My Aunt Rhonda came home from work at 
5:00 pm and had to leave at 5:30 to pick up her 
daughter April and her two grandchildren 
Stepnanie and Jeremy from the airport. Jenny 
was also traveling with the three, sne was the 
babysitter. We would discover later that she 
didn't have much experience, at babysitting 
that is. 

My aunt asked her daughter Racheal to go 
to the airport with her because it had started 
raining. Racheal refused to go, so I volun- 
teered. My cousin could be such a bitch. I left 
Kate behind because she wasn't feeling well. 
The veal parmesan on theplane was catching 
up with her. My aunt and I started off for the 
airport, the rain wasn't heavy, butit was steady. 
My aunt talked of April in the car. She was 
excited for all of us to meet her. April was no 
relation to me, but I was happy for Rhonda. 

We arrived at the airport a little early, so 
after we parked, we walked around a bit. The 
airport in Chicago was very busy and knowing 
only six people in the whole state, chances 
were that I wasn't going to see any of them 
there. I was walking in a daydream when I 
realized my aunt was no longer with me. When 
I turned around I couldn't see her either. She 
was gone! Don't panic! I kept reminding my- 
self not to panic! 

I sat down on a worn out, drab brown chair 
near where I lost my aunt, or where she lost me. 
The time was 6:08 pm. I frantically looked 
among all the travelers and their respective 
hosts. There were many people, tall, short, 
thin, fat, old, young, pretty, and pretty ugly. 
None of these people even resembled my aunt. 
The time was now 6:15 pm. I heard the paging 
system announce a woman's name and even 
tnough it wasn't mine, it sure gave me an idea. 

I went to the nearest information counter to 
have my aunt paged and I said to meet me in 
the airport bar, cause I needed a drink. I found 
the bar no problem. I couldn't figure out what 
happened to my aunt, after all, this was her 
damn airport, not mine. The bar was crowded. 
I took a seat against the wall, drank a martini 
on the rocks and waited, the time was 6:37 pm. 
I knew April was coming in at 7:05 pm. I didn't 
know the gate, even if I did, I would not have 
recognized them. Then again, how could I 
miss them. 

At 6:48 pm I had my aunt paged again. I 
said I would meet her by the gate, provided I 
could find it. The departure and arrival t.v. 

P*fc 6 

told me it was flight 1017. 1 headed for the gate. 
I had previously passed through airport secu- 
rity when I saw more security up ahead. I 
figured someone famous must be around. As I 
grew closer, I had noticed the police and they 
were motioning people away from the scene. 
A thin woman with snort brown hair in brown 
pants with a white silk blouse on was holding 
a small child and screaming hysterically. An- 
other woman was near her covering the eyes of 
a young girl. I was standing right near them 
when a cop pushed me back. I had a weird 
feeling, I felt like I was going to pass out. I 
rushed through the officers into the restroom . 
They were gathered around. I don't remember 
what any of them were hollering. I was aston- 
ished wnen I entered the bathroom and there 
was a dead woman. She was naked, hanging 
by a metal bar above the individual grey filmed 
sinks. She had medium length hair tnat was 
brown, her eyes were bulging, bloodshot and 
brown, her skin was blue, her face maybe more 
of a purple. The dead woman looked like the 
distraugnt young woman outside. Even more 
so, the woman resembled Aunt Rhonda... 


Adam Wilcox 


Legal for me 

to own a gun 

To protect 

myself from 


18, legal for 

Him to carry a gun 

to protect himself 

from another who is 

so on, and so on. 

With this many who 

protect themselves, 

Should anyone die 

From gunshot wounds? 



Bree Sayers 


the kitchen floor 

with canvas 

I'll take my portion 

to the corner — 

adorn these hands 

with crayons 

and color shamelessly. 

Disregard the outlines. 

Donica Rampa 

I'll pardon your lack of 

feminine understanding, 

If you'llpardon my lack 

of true Catholicism. 

In fact, you may even 

have to pardon my atheism. 

While we discuss my 

Lack of Faith 

In the fact mat Someone like You 

could be so lofty 

To judge my decisions, 

on my Dody, 

on my child, 

on my life, 

When you lack even empathy 

for someone who one day might be 

your neighbor, 

your daughter, 

or your wife. 

P*te 7 


My mother against it 

Sheryl Mastalesh 

Nature ended your life at minus three months. 

There are those who say life hasn't begun yet 


But I wonder as I look at those budding fingers 

and toes, 

and round little tummy. That little dot of an 

eye looks back at 

me without notice. 

Was it Hippocrates who said that life was 


Our wise men and women today follow their 

own satellite and 

play their own God role, creating and ending 

Perhaps you are better off not entering such a 
world anyway. 


Jennifer Rohr 

It happened one night 

So dreary and awful 
I was in so much pain 
He wasn't at all thoughtful 
My father was for it 

My mother against it 

He ignored me at school 

I knew something was wrong 

He thought I was a fool 

I might as welTve been gone 

My father was for it 

I am so young 

I said so many times 

I can't handle it now 

With the sound of chimes 

Of wedding bells in my head 

Where was it that I was misled 
My father was for it 
My mother against it 

I knew the time had come 
That something had to be done 

After talking I knew 
My father was for it 
My mother against it 

According to my father 

"Getting rid of it" was the only way 

My mother knew the pain involved 

It would come back to haunt me some day 

My father was for it 

My mother against it 

I was aproaching the final date 
I knew a decision had to be made 
I tried to talk to him 
I was raining on his parade 

My father was for it 
My mother against it 

I was forced to abide by my father's word 

A part of me would soon be gone 

I wanted to keep it 

But, it would be wrong 

My father was for it 

My mother against it. 

P*fC f 

21. LOST IT 

Bree Sayers 

Tripped over your 


You dropped it 

in the aisle 

beside me. 

I considered 

returning it 

to you, 

but you 

looked so happy 

without it. 


Laura Maxwell 

In the Coolness of September morn 

In the Dawning of the Waking Day 

The world anal 

We Share a Special Secret 

of the Joy it is 

To Live 


Rita Bienick 

Another joyous holiday season is taking 
shape and becomes a merry interruption of 
daily routine. The stores are filled with harried 
people shopping to the tune of Christmas car- 
ols. Intermittent recorded commercials speak 
of the latest in assault weapons guaranteed to 
produce a squeal of delignt from your most 
impressionable youth on Christmas morning 
and greatly improve his standing in the kin- 
dergarten community. 

The children are on reprieve from the 
entrappings of their scholastic environment. 
The house is no longer quiet during the day. 
There are fights to referee and cartoons to 

There are cookies to bake and pies to make. 
The fragrance from the kitchen flows through 
the house and embraces the occupants with a 

blanket of warmth. 

Grandma is planning her usual seven course 
meal along with her seven course serving of 
complaints. No one forces Grandma to pre- 
pare such an elaborate feast, yet every year it is 
understood that she expects everyone present 
this year to be present next year, borne people 
are just not happy unless they have something 
to complain aoout. 

Daria has been on her bi-yearly diet and 
she's hoping to lose fifty pounds in the next 
four weeks before coming to town for the 
holidays. She always arrives five pounds 
heavier than she was before her diet began. 

The end of the season elicits a sigh of relief 
from mothers everywhere. Children grudg- 
ingly accept the fact that their two weeks of 
vacation from school are over. Everyday rou- 
tines are back on course. Grandma begins plan- 
ning Easter dinner and Darla begins yet an- 
other diet. 


Joshua Dipert 

Complete cold coating 
causes crazed contemplation, 
buries earthen scars 


Tony McFadden 

"Nothing means the world to me, otherwise 
I'd be smiling" 

"I never want to be myself, being someone 

"Reverse psychology doesn't work on back- 
wards people" 

"Powerful is the intelligent candle, for it can be 
and form itself into a new being" 

"If you didn't mean it, why did you have to 
hurt me" 

P*t* 9 


Tony McFadden 

"When you give life a background 
you need a change of scenery 7 ' 


Joshua Dipert 

Blue hedgehog bravely 
fights to save his homeland from 

Dr. Robotnilc 

27. MISER 

Steve Marker 

There once was a rich man from Leeds 
Whose money took care of his needs 

But spend it he wouldn't 

If s not that he couldn't 
Twas something to do with his greed 

On waking to start every day 
He'd stare at his fortune ana pray 
For more stored up riches 
To sit and draw interest 
Around him his gold drew decay 

One morning when hiding some more 
he found that his fortune was gone 
But what did it matter? 
When savings grow fatter 
If giving you choose to ignore. 


Jim Goebel 









Half past eleven 

Have to go 

Fully recovered 


Tony McFadden 

Look at the mirror 
Outside you see a real man 
Inside you feel lies. 


Chris Savini 

I wonder how it must feel, to have no idea 
who I am, where I am, how I got there, or where 
I am going. 

Wait... I guess I do know how that feels. 

Well then, I wonder how it must feel, to see 
the people I love, suddenly become total strang- 

Wait... I suppose I know how that feels too. 

I often think, what it might be like, to have 
conversations with myself. For the simple rea- 
son, that I would be the only person I could 
understand anymore. 

Wait a minute... I know how that feels as 
well. Damn! This is depressing. 


Jennifer Rohr 

Growing up in Saudi Arabia was a unique 
experience for my family and I. When we first 
got there, it was like walking back through 
time. Imagine living life without McDonalds, 
movie theaters, supermarkets, and no leaving 
the house without the husband or father. Other 
than usual things compensated our time. We 
played cards and games, learned Arabic to- 
gether and went to town. 

P*fe to 

When we went to town, my sisters, mother 
and I dressed in black abiyahs (a long thin coat) 
that covered each of us from wrists to ankles. 
We would walk down the sand beaten paths 
browsing for groceries. The meat market con- 
sisted of an open air, tarp covered, twenty feet 
of tables. The tables h ? a fresh fish flopping on 
ice, cow's livers, tong : es, and freshly flanked 
steaks. Live chickens ran frantically at our feet. 
We could hear the snap of the chopping block 
as poultry was being slaughtered. 

The stench of the open air market left an 
unsettling feeling in my stomach, but after a 
few minutes I got used to it. At the end of the 
meat section mere were bottles of labiyan, 
goafs or cow's milk (there's no way to be sure). 

My favorite part of the market was the fruit 
and vegetable section. We picked through boxes 
from Jordan of ripe tomatoes, green lettuce 
and sweet tangerines. Sometimes a hub-hub 
(watermelon) vendor would sell them out of 
the back of his truck. 

After shopping for our groceries, Dad 
would bring us to the souk. It's an open air 
mall-like shopping area. We would purchase 
gold by the gram, pirated cassette tapes, and 
authentic Arabian treasures such as rugs and 
brass. Before leaving town we would stop and 
get a shwarma. If s a gyro type sandwich stuffed 
with chicken or beef (maybe). The vendor 
stands on a dusty corner surrounded by alley 
cats, but we still love the flame-broilea mari- 
nated taste of the meat. The meat is wrapped in 
warm pita bread, smothered with grilled to- 
matoes and a cucumber yogurt sauce. 

We always left town before the chaos of 
9:00 pm prayer time. By then, some of the 
stores would begin to close and we were tired 
of walking in the 80_ salty air. 


Laura Maxwell 

I'm so tired, 

if only I could 

p off 

for a little while 
get some 

sleee (zzz) 

However! Since it's nap time, I'm going to STAY 


Tina Szegedi 

Figure clicks into my view 

With a hair of curly lace 

And a face of ironic white 

This is my enemy? 

Or so I am trained to think. 

She is gentle and graceful 

Like silk and fine wine. 

She glances with happiness 

Why is she my enemy? 

The color of her skin. 

I fail to see what is wrong with her- 

Or worse yet-me. 


Joshua Dipert 

Up is up and down 
down but maybe still perhaps 
around and around. 


Bree Sayers 


this apron string 

ignored by the earthbound 

yet holding on 

as it unravels 

P*fe tt 


Jim Goebel 

Silent, sleeping female, 

Do you know who I am? 
Do you know about love? 
About my feelings toward you? 

As I watch 

The tears of the moonbeam 

Glisten upon your face 

I can only think about 
What it would be like 

If I knew more about you. 


Janine Passehl 

you deny that you 
no longer care 

i deny that i 
still do 

then i tell you that 
i love you 
and i mean it. 

you tell me you lied. 

i was much happier 
living in 


Donica Rampa 

He spoke in pseudo-philosophies, 

and used tired liberal cliches, 

And thought himself quite 

the Humorist 

In so many clever ways. 

But his opinions didn't interest me, 

for many held no logic. 

His innuendos all but annoyed me, 

for I found him unappealing. 

I told him what he thought were secrets, 

When really, I'd tell the world- 

So he believed our bond a close one. 

To me, the thought's absurd. 

He brought to mind the sow's ear, 

A silk purse he was not- 

He was what he was, what he was 

And he would never change. 

He aspired to inspire me 

Ironically, he has- 

He thinks himself so much a man, 

When really, he's an ass. 


Bree Sayers 

You can smile 
You're comfortable 
Reclining on vour lie 
and vou thinx 
You ve got the 

food seat, 
can see better 
from where I 


Heidi Terry 

He sits all alone, 

this handsome young man. 

He has nothing to gain, 
he's done all that he can. 
He thinks he's a loser 
with nothing to live for. 
He needs to realize, 
his life is worth more. 
For every step forward, 
he's taken two steps back. 
It seems everything he tries, 
he doesn't have the knack. 
If he'd try one more time, 
he might get ahead. 
But this handsome young man 
has chose death instead. 

Pfe f2 


Tony McFadden 

There it is again, 

Let me stop thinking, 

Closed eyes brine vivid visions, 

so much I can't sleep. 

I'm alive in my dreams, or are 

My dreams alive in me? 

Either way I'm learning. 


Sheryl Mastalesh 

Man has been trying to figure out woman 
since creation. This has not changed today, but 
the role that woman plays has. Tnere has been 
a drastic renovation of the female lifestyle in 
my generation compared to my and write was 
considered sufficient. As the children got older, 
volunteer work or club membership filled in 
spare time for women who did not enter the 
work force. The beauty shop became a weekly 
ritual because they were expected to look nice 
for their man, and the shapely woman was 
popular. Marital dissolution or having a child 
out of wedlock was scandalous, and birth con- 
trol methods were not dependable. A man was 
supposed to open the door for a woman and 
perform other courtesies. Mother's homemade 
foods were daily treats. 

In 1966 1 uttered my marital vows and was 
considered what was now termed the home- 
maker. This was the baby-boomer era and the 
trend was moving toward the liberated 
women's movement. A high school diploma 
was important, and more girls pursued college 
and a career. Unmarried mothers and divorce 
were embarrassing, and the woman usually 
got custody of the children along with ali- 
mony. Manners were still considered impor- 
tant. Women were not draftable during the 
Vietnam war. Frozen dinners were on the fam- 
ily menu. 

Over the twenty-five years that I have been 
married, women have gotten more involved in 
the working world. More daddies are staying 

home to take care of the children, and a lot of 
women have a higher income than their hus- 
bands. There are more women doctors, law- 
yers, judges and other careers that once were 
for men only. Some of the courtesies that 
women had have been considered out of place 
in the business world. Women are still trying 
to look nice for their men and the cosmetic 
business and plastic surgeons have benefitted 
from this. The thin look in woman is popular 
and anorexia is a growing problem. It is no 
longer shocking to have a child without a 
husband, and divorce is a common affair. Abor- 
tion, artificial insemination, surrogate moth- 
ers and sterilization have now entered the 
medical maze. Many men are getting custody 
of their children when there is a divorce, and 
he might be the one getting alimony payments. 
When the war in Iran took place, women re- 
servists were taken to perform their military 
duty. Prepared dishes and fast food restau- 
rants are a more common part of the family 

Woman is still a puzzle to man; he is not 
sure whether to call ner Miss, Ms., or Misses. 
She is also more competition to him in the 
present. In the yesteryears of my mother's 
generation, woman was dependent upon man, 
tomorrow she may not need him. 


Joshua Dipert 

The cat decides to start to run about, 
Kitten starts to disrupt the day ahead, 
With dread I hear mother begin to shout, 
So I am forced to choose to leave my bed. 
With eyes still drooped and turned by sleep, 
I spy 

cat leap toward the hallway wall, collide 
against my old antique, causing the dry 
"ca-rack" of wood. I dove, my God I tried, 
to save the lamp, but tripped and fell, kitten 
had picked that spot as well. I cursed the cat 
and lost my pride, when I became smitten 
with sounds of sleep, and went back to my 
and tired old bed, and chose to rest my tired, 
sore head, and heard the kitten tear 'round 

P*ic t3 

45. DIRT 

Chris Savini 

Grit in the air sticks to my face, 

And it feels so good to be dirty. 

Drunk I dance like God's jester 

Under the "L" tracks. 

Sparks like falling strobe lights 

Slashing at the darkling sky. 

And my shadows shrink and swell on the 


I am preternatural, dancing for the dead. 

Asphalt powders in my hands 

and rains down and around my head. 

I can taste the city on the steel columns 

The metallic decay crumbles under my tongue. 

Grunge coats my throat, 

Filth fills my belly, 

My voice pelts the bystanders like dirt 

As I sing dirty songs 

I am dirt, singing tor the masses. 

Rain hemorrhages from the sky 

Drenching my shell, filling my pores, 

And boiling inside me. 

My skin stretches grotesquely, as the pressure 


I crack inside for the last time, 

And split in a thousand places, 

Scorching the city with steam. 

I am a gas giant, ready to explode. 

Just like you. 


Laura Maxwell 

Treading softly in awe 

into hushed silence 

kneeling to find 

a Presence there 

In filtered light of purple paned air 

is far away, 
I sit alone with my maker 
and Hope for His approval. 


Jim Goebel 

The rains were distant 

Except to Noah, 

Yet he believed in You. 

The Red Sea was distant 

Except to Moses, 

Yet he believed in You. 

The giant was distant 

Except to David, 

Yet he believed in You. 

The rains, giants, and Red Seas 
Are known to me, 
Yet I falter in unbelief. 

Am I distant to You? 


Joshua Dipert 

Despite his age, he is brighter. 

Despite his size, he is stronger. 

Despite his violent birth, he is gentle. 

The golden light that rings his brow brings joy to those 


worship him. 
He can give the gift of life, or condemn to a tortuous 

He is a savior and a destroyer. 
He is precious and eternal. 


Tony McFadden 

Birth, to die in disbelief 
Death, to be born into a 
New forever until time means 
Nothing again. 

P*fc t4 

50. 11:9 

Jim Goebel 
what is good 
act upon these things 

will discover One who 
help you 
the right path. 

From this disease that we call time. 

Rita Bieniek 

I close my eyes to the light of day 
Ifs wonaerrul to get away 

I never have to start a car 
My dreams are never far 

I don't need to make a reservation 
To enjoy an exotic vacation 

There is no train to delay 
My departure any day 

No need to board a plane 
There is never any rain 


Chris Savini 

Yesterday my sky fell down. 

And no one seemed to care. 

Yesterday my hopes all drowned. 

And all I have is rear. 

And I wish 

That I could be a child. 

Beautifully ignorant 

Like I used to be. 

Before I felt this death 

Inside of me. 

And now there's nothing left to dream. 

And there's nothing left to be. 

And I know that I will die, 

The boat can't sail without me 

My passport is hassle free 

No duty tax to pay 
Everything is done my way 

Never sand from the beach 
In a place I can't reach 

Come along and see 

Just close your eyes and dream like me 

P+9* IS 


Laura Maxwell 

A Golden Marigold 

Talks to me 

of her thoughts 

and her cares 

While fading from cold. 


Joshua Dipert 

Wouldn't it be incredible to see the world 
through the eyes of a dyslexic? 

fo erutrot eht dnats uoy dluoC 
,yaw rehto yreve ni tcefrep gnieb 
?thgiarts ees ot elbanu tub 
,God sa doG ees oT 
?car sa rac ro 
syawla nac uoy sseug I 
ot emoh og 


Jim Goebel 

As I brought the computer home, 
the words of the salesman echoed 
through my head. 

'Imagine! Information at your 
fingertips! No more need 
to worry about money troubles, 

or the weather in Rio!" 
'Imagine! With user friendly word 

processing software included, 
you can use your typewriter 
as a doorstop or even a planter!" 
"Imagine! With the speed of a 986SX 

with an Ultra-Super-Incredible VGA 

video card, you have 

The Power Source of the Future!" 

Imagine! Assembly instructions that 
require a technical degree 
from MTT or California Institue of 

Technology, Mars Campus! 

Imagine! So many wires, that you can 

receive classic episodes of 
"Hello, Larry," and "My Mother 

the Car"on your monitor! 

Imagine! With user-surly word 
processing software, you can 
erase your entire hard drive, 
just by hitting the "Fl" key! 

Imagine! Spending $3500 on the 

Smith-Corona, here I come! 

56. ROCK 

Joshua Dipert 

Cragged minerals 
fused over millenia 
roll slowly downhill. 

57. ROCK 2 

Joshua Dipert 

Heavy rhythm po 
delicate fibers inside 
a rounded carton 


P^ft 16 


Tony McFadden 

Petal lips, 

Humid kisses, 

I can feel us growing. 


Laura Maxwell 

See the candle flicker 
dip to lap the wax 
flutter with movement 
fight for Breath 
weeping her tears 
tasting the atmosphere 
yellowing the wall 


Chris Savini 

The closer I look 

The smaller it gets 

But there is always more to shrink 

Universe to galaxy to system 

To planet to nemisphere to country 

To city to neighborhood to house 

To family to person to brain 

To hemisphere to lobe to neuron 

Firing smoothly 

A thought of eternity 

But as I look into infinity 

All I get is a headache 

All I feel is hopeless, helpless 

Fears that make Hell's fires flicker 

And all I can do is hope 

That I'm right, that I don't offend 

Even when I'm sick 

When my bones ache 

Or have they buried before 

And I'm part of some Orphic cycle 

Until I get it right 

Makes me Vegan, to think of Grandpa 

Nature doesn t care 

I don't even tick on her clock 

And in a million years 

I'll burn in someone else's engine 

Tomorrow's fossil fuel 

Tossing in bed 


Adam Wilcox 

Racist, fascist 
dragging their 

taking civilization 
back to the past 
burning crosses at night 
making me ashamed 
of being white 
tie the nooses tight 
to end the clan of those 
who preserve this fight 
Hang 'em high! 


Sheryl Mastalesh 

Blackberry, blueberry, 
Boysenberry, dewberry, 
Huckleberry, yewberry, 
Cranberry, gooseberry. 
Little circles of life 
can be bitter, sweet, 

You can coat them, or crush them, 
Or take them just as they are. 

63. STAIN 

Bree Sayers 

Sweat stains 

this pathetic skin 

petitioning the shower stall 

one last drowning piece of 


rinsed away 

choking the corroded drain 

dripping filth in solitude 

dissolving a bar of soap 

that cannot erase this 


P*fe t7 



. Joshua Dipert 

He's in a box with 
no lid confined all the same 
no way out the walls. 


Joshua Dipert 

Just a melancholy morning 

in a melancholy day, 

and the only thing thafs constant 

is my melancholy way. 

Doing melancholy labor, 

getting melancholy pay, 

and getting nothing for it 

but a melancholy say. 

Then I go home every evening, 
see a melancholy play, 
or maybe get my dinner 
on a melancholy tray. 

Yes, if s a melancholy living 

over melancholy days, 

yet the only thing thafs constant 

is my melancholy way. 

Donica Rampa 

Into the pit 
he went- 
Pearl Jamming 
in flannels that 

looked more appealing 
with his long brown hair 
Than they ever looked 
with my dad's 
Conservative Red Neck. 
He'd forgotten the world- and me- 
for a moment. 
He was in a boyish frenzy, 
Lost in a sea of 
Limbs and Torsos. 
-How I wished to be 
lost and released that way- 
Then as the Bass faded, 
He was returned to me, 
eyes bright, 
ancient soul cleansed. 
I held him to me 
and felt his heart. 
And in that instant- 
prayed that he 
Would never leave. 


Chris Savini 

Joyce is blue again, breaking with the seasons. 

She holds no thirst for life, 

She finds no friend in Jesus. 

And every time I stare, she pulls me in 

So scared she'll be alone again. 

So sad to see her fading within, 

To see her give up the ghost again. 

And I break to feel her sinking 

To feel her pull me into the fog that drags her 

Down into the dullness she holds sacred, 

The soup that steals her reason 

And the color that stains her name. 

P*fC tg 


Joshua Dipert 

Melodious song 
Hammer of an angry God, 
a conquering wind. 


Donica Rampa 

She's a quiet one, 

she don t say much 

But I'll tell you something about her 

-if you promise silence- 

The clearing behind the old church, 
-you know the one- 
Is where you can find her 
when there is no moon. 
She gathers kindling and sets a blaze, 
watching the flames lick the night sky. 
And if you listen carefully, 
from somewhere there are drums 
that pound a primitive rhythm. 
-Don't ask who plays them- 
Only watch her 

when she begins to dance 

Instinctively, Anciently, 

Around the fire. 

Watch the reflection of flames 

in her eyes. 

Watch her beauty. 

-Do not go to her- 

only watch her when 

She falls to the ground 

Eyes" to the heavens 

-body shaking- 

Watcn the pain 

leave as the needle enters 

And know the reason of her silence, 

The truth behind the madness. 


Bree Sayers 

Lost in Chicago 
late Saturday night, 
clutching leather 
we pass the 
tent city: 

Reaganville on the 


Adam Wilcox 

Whispers in your breath 

Flowers and golden eyes 
words and whistles of song 

Short abbreviations of faith 
sun goes down 
beneath shady tree 
silent murmur of nature's speech 

joy thinning as you run away 
only to come back again, 

and lay down with the being 
you do not understand 
Mentioning phrases of promises 
to be broken, 
but I run away 
and come bade again, 
only to hear them 
over and over 
and keep the meaningless things from ending 

and let nature have its way 

72. #2 
Bree Sayers 

He woke up at the same time 
every morning and went to work at 
the same place. Yesterday he did the 
same thine except on his way home 
he stopped and jumped off a bridge. 

P*fC f9 


Chris Savini 

November 3, 1992 (Election Day): 

I'm standing in a polling booth, at the In- 
dian Oaks Recreation Center, faced with a 
weighty decision. I already voted on all of 
those trivial positions (you know, the ones that 
will have a far greater impact on my daily life), 
and now ifs time to use my voice. It's my 
chance to shout my opinion so that it is heard 
in Washington, D.C.. I made my decision a 
long time ago, but now I find myself going 
through the whole process over again, only in 
extreme fast-forward. Bush, Perot, and Clinton, 
these are my choices. (?) Of course, there is the 
Socialist party, the Natural Order party, and so 
on, but my sense of humor is not that warped. 

Should I vote for Bush? I actually used to 
feel sorry for him, like the guy in high school 
who wore a Village People T-shirt to school 
one day. He knew it was a mistake when he 
walked through the door, but he refused to 
take it off as a matter of principle, no matter 
how much fun was made of him. Though 
lately George is sounding more and more like 
a grouchy old curmudgeon. Besides, I won't 
vote for him simply because I know that Rush 
Limbough is going to, and I like having as little 
as possible in common with Rush Limbough. 

Next there is Ross Perot. I want to vote for 
him, just so I can see Dana Carvey's impres- 
sions of him for the next four years. But I 
should not let that influence a decision of this 
magnitude. I like Ross, he is charming and 
funny, but I have all this too-real vision m my 
head of prime ministers and presidents of other 
countries laughing more at him than with him. 
No, give him nis own series not the presidency. 

Finally there is Bill Clinton. I guess he wins 
(my vote at least) by process of elimination. He 
was my first choice. He claims that his admin- 
istration would bringabout change. I doubt it, 
but I'll let him try. Perhaps he can help the 
economy, improve health care, and fight eco- 
logical waste, but he cannot really change 
America without asking all the Americans to 
leave. Then again, none of us even register on 
the geological Clock, and this whole voting 
process is starting to seem very futile, but 
Madonna says I should vote so I'll humor 

Therefore, being as there are no more real- 
istic candidates, rifpush this pin into Clinton. 
But as I aim the pin I can hear the desperate 
cries of conservatives nationwide. 

"No! NO! Don't do it! He's a liar!" 

Yes, you are probably right. Bill Clinton 
may be a liar, a rather bad one. Then, Bush, 
Perot, and probably most other politicians 
throughout nistory were liars too. It comes 
down to this: Do you want to vote for a good 
liar or a bad liar? I'm voting for a bad one, this 
way at least I'll know when ne is lying. Besides, 
bad liars are easier to impeach. 

And so, with conviction and moral sound- 
ness, I stab the little dot next to Bill Clinton's 
name. Maybe he will change the world. 

And now as I pull my ballot from its slot, I 
ponder a question which has been biting at the 
heels of my brain for the past year. Why hu- 
mans? Why, out of the entire animal kingdom, 
did God choose mankind as the recipients of a 
conscious mind, a soul, and the knowledge of 
mortality? Why didn't the cows inherit the 
Earth? This planet would be a whole lot differ- 
ent if they had, I suspect. I can't imagine cows 
waging war or enslaving one another, con- 
structing tacky food outlets and shopping 
malls. I oet they would lead a peaceful, veg- 
etarian existence, grazing and discussing bo- 
vine literature all aay long. 

I turn and push aside the gaudy curtain 
which concealed me as I "Rocked the Vote." 
This room is overheated and I can't wait to get 
out into the brisk November air. I stride to- 
wards the white haired woman at the ballot 
box. And as she takes hold of my ballot I retain 
my grip for a second and utter very philo- 
sophically, "Give a cow a mind and a poseable 
thumb and I doubt they'd do much worse than 
we." She smiles and arops my ballot into the 


Joshua Dipert 

The right 

to wipe a race 
off the face of the earth 
was never earned by settlers, just 


P*?c 20 


Joshua Dipert 

They preach 
about their rights 
to the land, yet they sell 
their heritage for wholesale 

Tony McFadden 

Vast beautiful land 

You are mine for the taking 

Screw the Indians. 


Tony McFadden 

Poor foolish white man 

You will die not knowing peace 

Greed makes you restless. 

78. BIG MAC 

Tony McFadden 

Hi, welcome to McDonald's, may I take your 


Yah, gimme 40 thousand acres of rainforest, 

One hundred generations of native Indians, 

And 12 species of animals.... 


Steve Marker 

Dawn is breaking, day anew 
Sun is warm and sky is blue 
Silent whispering morning tune 
Autumn prairie daylight soon 

Raintree in the forest bloom 
Misty covered morning hue 
Rolling meadow pastures flow 
Planted harvest grain to grow 
Sleepy shadow silence knows 
Of a nation long ago 
Sunlight glistening shore to shore 
Native spirit long Defore 

Sleepy village soon will rise 
Groves of blossom ranges quiet 
Rushing meadows flow 
Wind-swept legend's whispering tone 

Raintree in the forest bloom 
Native spirif s wind-swept tune 
Dawn is oreaking, day anew 
Loving nation made for you. 


Cheryl O'Brien 

Do you love her 
Or is she just a screw 
Does she like it 
Or is she a old shrew 

You are so young 
And she is HOW old 
Did she seduce you 
Or were you feeling bold 

Does she teach you tricks of the trade 

Is she a sagey baggy mess 

Do her wrinkles excite you 

Or is it repulsion you don't confess 

Do you revel in her age 
And your youth when it's done 
Or do you freeze in terror 
When she moans "Yes, my Son" 

P*9* 2t 



Jim Goebel 

She stands on the corner 

A victim of change 

She was left behind 

From all the dreams she had. 

The dreams of love, 

Of a better life; 

The things of which the future hold. 

She stands on the corner, 

Watching people walk by. 

Hoping; praying 

That they will open up 

And share their dreams with her. 

What those dreams are, 

She can only wonder. 

She stands on the corner, 

Wanting to talk to you. 

Hoping; praying 

That you will open up 

And share your dreams with her. 

Won't you stop and chat 

About the things the future holds? 


Steve Maielli 
Never listen to a fat man playing the tuba. 


Steve Maielli 

Always listen because you never know what 
you'll hear. 

Laurie Montgomery 

Man in chair at window 

upon a past 

Time lost 
Supple tear 
A year 

Chair at window 
reflection of a man 

85. SAM 

Donica Rampa 

He lit a cigarette 

(one of the cheap kinds) 

and criticized Republican politics. 

Making himself comfortable in my 

Big Black Beanbag 

he asked me for an ashtray 

and gave me the 

"inside scoop" 

on why guys wouldn't stay 

with someone like me. 

I said So he reads Cosmo 

and told him to get a haircut. 

He shot out a look 

that might have embarrassed me, 

-if I had anything to hide- 

I told him he was pretty 

self-righteous for someone 

who usually slept in parks. 

He said I might oe wise to watch 

my razor tongue, 

But I hadn't even be gun my 


He stayed the night 

(nothing happened) 

And disappeared. 

Bet he was a good kisser. 

?V ** 



Joshua Dipert 


In an unimportant 
place, Small man is climbimg dunes, 
Finding stone tablets. 


On useless platforms 
Small man reads ancient iron runes, 
fathoming nothing. 


Within meaningless 
spheres, small Man worships dead moons 
Praying forgiveness. 


Down a helpless 
hall, small Man will die very soon, 
Amounting to naught. 


In a decrepit 
room, this small Man calls blacks "coons" 
Thinking of nothing. 


Small men fight worthless 
wars with powerless words and 
accomplish nothing. 


Chris Savini 

Don't have kids when you have no job, 

Mandatory birth control for welfare moms, 

It may sound drastic, but if s what we need, 

What good is freedom when there's no room to 


Children are born into poverty, 

No ambition! Only strife and cruelty, 

Run wild, with no control, 

And little opportunity to grow old. 

Adam Wilcox 

He creeps, and crawls 

came and stole my breath 

don't save a prayer for the slayer 

of those eternally slept 

taught us to build 

education swept up on our minds, 

taking civilizations down 

to their own death 

looted the force of nature 

using all knowledge found 

feeding on its own strength 

gaining the power to control 

every living thing around 

convinced us to help 

him complete his task 

rewarding us with a share of his knowledge 

this continued, and decades passed 

forming the perfect solution 

to defeat our fear of the unknown 

the product was finally complete 

there were no others like it 

so others built one just like it 

only for the competition 

to build others they had to supply him 

all they could, while growing poor steadily 

And this is how we are going to go 

waiting for his toy to explode 

bastard used his skills to manipulate 

by exploring nature and taking everything and 

its mate. 

to create an evil storm, 

we wait in fear for its destruction. 

PhD. Another mastermind, genius of the times 

by controlling our minds, 

what did you find, 

that kept U.S. from falling behind. 


Joshua Dipert 

Striking so swiftly, 
a sledge strikes the anvil, 
laying waste to worlds. 

pMfe 23 


Joshua Dipert 


crackles under 
my feet, allowing me to 
see, smell, sense, hear the living wood 
and dream. 


Laura Maxwell 

Winter's not a bleak time 
She's a saucy, sleek time 
With Thanksgiving's quest 
And Christmas blessed 

Lacy snowflakes 

Piercing frost 
To wrench and sting 

at sleepy eyes. 

Fall is gone. 
But darling, daring Winter 

Sings her own song. 


Joshua Dipert 

Slowly struggling 
unhindered by silver snow, 
warrior returns to the den 

93. THIN ICE: 

Joshua Dipert 

Slipping slowly sideways Sam 
Found himself in quite a jam. 
Sam, you see, he could not swim, 
So he found his chances slim 
Of making it out of the river. 
The thought of currents sent a shiver 

running up and down his spine. 
Sam spiea a oranch of dead dried pine. 
This branch young Sam decided to grab 

But then because of all his flab 
The branch gave with a mighty "crack!" 
Which sent poor Samuel flying back 
Down the hill, the poor young boy, 

He had become gravity's toy. 
But then an idea came to his head, 
Samuel would not end up dead 
if he took off his hat and coat, 
because he learned that fat will float! 

Straining suddenly for his zipper 
With a chubby hand (could be a flipper), 
Sam flopped out of his hat and chest, 
Felt cola ice against his chest, 
Then hit an icy liquid flow, 
Which carried the new continent as far as he 
could go, 

Then farther still and farther, till he came to 
the sea, 

And floated like an iceberg till it hit a ship 
named "Dree" 

The boat was sunk, its treasures lost 
at millions of dollars cost. 
All this because of little Sam, 
Whom in his mouth he had to cram 
all the food that he could find, 

And although it isn't kind, 
The moral is: Don't get too fat, 
And that, my friend, is the end of that 

P*?c 24 


Sheryl Mastalesh 

The photo forces me to ponder on the many 
times I heard my children say that there was 
nothing to eat even though the refrigerator and 
cupboards were filled. 

I look at the picture of a starving mother and 

child from Somalia at a feeding center, waiting 

for food to save their lives from the war-caused 


And think of the fast-food comercials and the 

free toys luring our kids, who just have to have 

those latest trinkets. 

I study the face of the shriveled starving child 
in the picture and envision the Gerber baby. As 
a motner I can't even imagine the torment of 
seeing a child wilting away before my eyes for 
lack of food and water to die. 

I notice that the mother and child are both 
dressed in rags in the picture. 
And I think of how many offspring in our 
country must have special labels or heroes on 
their clothes. 

I check the emaciated little arm clinging to its 
mother in trust in the picture. I think of the 
extra pounds that I should shed. 
And lfeel ashamed. 


Jim Goebel 

Damn these bars. 

They confine him, 

Rob him of his freedom; 

Sap what little strength he has. 

Fellow prisoners 

Offer their advice, 

Captives themselves longer than he, 

Though no more wise in their actions. 

The detatched warden 
Doesn't say a word, 
While calculating his filthy lucre, 
Not caring of the surroundings. 

I feel for the family he murdered, 
With the action or poison, 
He easily, carelessly, 
Annihilated their existence. 

As he wanders, 

Captive by his prison of alcohol, 

All I can say is 

Damn these bars. 

96. BLUES BAR 12:58 AM 

Chris Savini 

Man on the euitar 

Loses himself in his riffs. 

I'm lost too 

A voice soothes my head, 

Siren, sings of love she lost. 

I'm lost too. 

Old man at the bar 

Cries over fortune misplaced. 

I'm lost too. 

I listen to them. 

I will sleep better knowing, 

They're lost too. 


Tony McFadden 

Sitting silent among the outspoken, softspoken 

Listening and stares. 

Catching subtle lies in facial expressions meant 


excite the flow of blood not the river of 

feelings that might bring joy instead of sweat. 

'Tuck me!" 

"Fuck you!" 

Love is a happy smile, 

Nothing replaces contentment. 

Physical sexuality or mental romance? 

I prefer the latter. 

A lingering memory of what someday brings 


nealed by time or love through the years. 

Don't touch my hand and say "I love you." 

Get inside my mind and melt with me. 

P*ft 25 


]oshua Dipert 

in the valley, 
a lonely guardian 
" Us 


slowly falls and is butchered for 


Laura Maxwell 

The quilts of yesteryear 

Fabrics so rare 

Crafted of time 

& loving care 

Worked with nimble fingers 

Patience with flair 


Cheryl O'Brien 

A cool Autumn night 
With the moon up above 
It's bloated and white 
As the wings of a dove 

The stars, how they shine, 
So bright yet so few 
Placea on their canvas 
Of midnight blue 

The breezes so cool 
So soft to the touch 
They remind me of one 
One I love so much 
I look at the water 
Don't believe what I see 
A reflection of the moon 
And if s smiling at me 

100. FACES 

Jim Goebel 

I can hear the clapping of hands; 
Enumerated faces appear to the side, 
With a pivotal point m their midst. 
A plumage of bright red appears, 
Speaks for a moment, then disappears. 
A weighty subject keeps its balance, 
Below the fraulein's house. 

I can feel the clasping of hands; 
Enumerated ideas appear in my head, 
With a pivotal thought in their midst. 
A plumage of bright red is there, 
Loves for a moment, then despairs. 
A weighty subject keeps its balance, 
Below the fraulein's heart. 

101. LEAF 

Joshua Dipert 

gently toward 
the slow decay of earth 
a flowing gold leaf spawns new life 
in death. 

103. WRONG 

Tony McFadden 

To begin a day with wishes, 

of beine peacefully, 

and only when the time's too late, 

you blow out the candles for me. 

The rising smoke taking my mind's eye 

showing now painful pursuing happiness can 


A pointless travel through soft hair. 


Sheryl Mastalesh 

He said he does a great imitation of Cagney 

after 5 shots of Jack Daniels. 
Was he trying to impress me? 

I'm not 
I've seen too many lives fermented. 

Mirrored in my memory is a young man 
with personality and potential 

Who couldn't accept alconol's bitterness 
and could only crush his addiction 
by swallowing Vanish 

P«9c 26 

105. CAT 

Joshua Dipert 

Contented purring 
tigress mellowed by her meows, 
Dathed in fallen sun. 

106. KINKII 

Joshua Dipert 

Little gray cat 
came into my house and made 
my other cat mad. 


Laura Maxwell 

Roach-y you are black and crawly 
Hiding, hoaxing and appalling 
running there across our floor 
We don't want you anymore. 

Stealing tidbits, trailing dirt 
Dreary dickens of a flirt 
Now we see you, now we can't 
Make you welcome, no we shan't. 

Busy, creepy, ugly roach 
You have only come to poach 
Spraying fumes are coming at you 
What an odor of phe-ew! 

Seal the windows and the doors 
Let the insect raid bomb pour 
We don't want you anymore! 

Roach-y, Roach-y, you are doomed 

crawling on in mist of fumes 

Tell your family to beware 

Don t come traipsing 'cross our floor! 

We don't want you here no more ! 


Donica Rampa 

You slap me 
curse me, 
punch me, 
and try to knock me down, 
and everyone who knows us 
Thinks you're the greatest 
guy around. 
I hold you, 

love you, 

kill you, 

and hide the body at my place, 
and everyone who knows us, 
thinks you've left without 
a trace. 

109. LOSING 

Jim Goebel 

"If s better to have loved and lost, 
Than never loved at all," 
Yet every time I feel love, 
I always take a fall. 

I fear that she may move out to 
A far and empty place 
Leaving in this neart of mine, 
A dark and somber space. 

Sometimes she will say to me, 
"I want to see some other." 
But I'm thinking in my head, 
She has a brand new lover. 

I wish I'd never loved at all, 
Than to have loved and lost 
For I don't want my heart to be 
An empty, bitter frost. 

But, I guess, there is the hope 
I'll be a better man, 
So I'll try to fall in love 
As often as I can. 

P«fe 27 


Sheryl Mastalesh 

I want to be liberated 

and yet, I like when you open doors for me 
I want to be in charge 

and yet, I like it when you're in command 
I want to be individual 

and yet, I want us to be one 
I want to be free 

and yet, I feel best within your arms 
After all, I do need you. 

111. ON A COUCH 

Chris Savini 

Love me 

Leap from your seat and tear me apart 

Swallow my shell and lap up my soul 

I feel so safe 

Invisible against the fabric of this couch 

Alone with you In my thoughts 


Tony McFadden 

There was a man that called you son, 
Now there's a man that calls you dad, 
You've done the best for both of them 
With all the time you had. 

He saw himself in you, 
And you look for you in me, 
But growing up is part of life 
Andsometimes if s hard to see. 

Where did I go wrone, 
Is now everything's alright 
Whenever tnere's a struggle 
If s the hardest time to fight. 
Remembering the past is fine 
As long as you still know 
Two men will always love you 
Even though one had to go. 

113. HELP HELP! 

Sheryl Mastalesh 

Someone please save me 
They are drilling holes at my very center 
They are draining the liquid, from my veins 
They are chopping away at my very limbs 

My every breath is beine smothered 
They are poisoning my drink with their excre- 

They are dumping on me. 
Does this sound like a lot of garbage? 
Well, it is! 


Janine Passehl 

the pen caresses the paper 
the way your hands once 
caressed my flesh and 
your words caressed my heart 
only to find you 
no longer wanted it 
so you crumpled it up 
and threw it away. 


Tony McFadden 

Someone out there doesn't like me. 
No one close, 
No one near, 

A person with a hidden fear. 
Keep him gone, they'll never know, 
Inside me the stranger grows, 
If s what is seen in comic books, 
Different thoughts, identical looks, 
I'm speaking of an evil twin 
Holding back, but still within. 

P*$c 22 


Sheryl Mastalesh 

Towering Tree, whaf s your history? 
I wonder what you have witnessed. 
Maybe your parent gently dropped you from 
her branched palm. 

Or did the wind sail you to this spot as a seed? 
Perhaps a pioneer planted you here as a sap- 

Was a child ever carried up to the sky in a 
swing by you? 

Was someone's special pet laid to rest around 
your base? 

Did anyone ever hang to death from your 

Do you worry about the great gusts or enjoy 
the wind 

briskly blowing through your coif? 
Do you flinch at the strike of lightening or have 
about chainsaw men? 

Do the ants tickle you or do the termites tor- 
ment you 

as a cancer eating away at you? 
Do you enjoy sunning yourself and showering 
in the rain? 

Does the frost bite your toes or do you enjoy the 
squish of the 

mud as you stretch beneath it? 
When the wind wails with you, what story are 
you trying to tell? 


Joshua Dipert 

As the brown grass cracked underneath 
our feet, flickering veils of heat waved gently 
upward, obscuring my vision and leaving the 
ground hard and dry. My grandfather and I 
were slowly loping our way toward the split 
rail fence that bordered his Finley, Ohio lot, 
both of us feeling the hot summer sun that 
attacked our dry skin. Out of the corner of my 
eye I saw a rabbit run to the cover of a brown 
steel shed which stood on a neighboring prop- 
erty futiley seeking shelter from the heat. As 
we reached the fence, my grandfather and I 
paused for a moment, each of us considering 
the option of simply turning back to the cool 
comfort of his house. As my grandfather looked 
down at me, I saw a smile begin to crease his 
cheeks. Putting his hand upon the top rail of 
the fence, my grandfather lept over the ob- 
stacle that had been placed there years ago by 
another man, easily clearing its pinnacle. Awea, 
I stood still for a moment, wondering how he 
had done that. Deciding that it wasn t impor- 
tant, I made my own four-year-old's way over 
the fence, climbing each rail separately and 
landing on the other side. As we turned, I 
grasped the hand that had lifted Grandpa and 
walked with him to the store. 

Joshua Dipert 

Frantic feathering 
flung together, furious, 
attempting freedom. 

119. NIGHT 

Joshua Dipert 

If I look closely 
I can almost see the man 
running for his life. 

P*fe 29 


Adam Wilcox 

Mirror, Mirror 
flying from my wall 

Supply image 
to see for all, 

None but the fairest, 
cease to exist. 

We conform 
to another form 
to please each other's eyes, 
lipstick, lashes and stuff on a face, 
to hide the eyes taking away what will replace, 
the beauty of a face. 

I stare at you, 
Mirror, Mirror, 
broken on my floor 
and see the child 
I could not adore 

one side empty the other a reflection, 
both a man inside me, 

Shades of broken glass reveal 
true identity 

Now, incompletely, 
I'm satisfied. 

121. SONIC 

Joshua Dipert 

between oadniks 
bold blue buccaneer beats 
battalions of balesome beasties 


Joshua Dipert 

chose his weapon 
well, as it has maintained 
its gleam long after Camelofs 


Tony McFadden 

Dear Friends, 

I regret that I have but one mind to share 

with you. 

This flurry of thoughts and non-actions have 

lead me back to a familiar scene, but unfamiliar 

to myself until now. 

I realize that confusion is apparent as I ramble 

out these last words, but alas, a time has 

come and the end beckons.